Ashes of the Red Heifer (11 page)

Alanberg’s voice was laced with excitement. “It has been over two thousand years since the last of these heifers was born in Israel. It was the ninth in history. Prophecy tells us when the tenth heifer appears, the Temple will be built and the Messiah will finally come.”

“In all your history there must have been millions of heifers born in Israel. Is this special heifer polka dotted or what?”

There was a moment of silence before the CEO answered. “What God requires is a perfect red heifer.”

Red. Annie’s heart stuttered as understanding flooded her. She knew where the Corporation intended to send her. The one place she couldn’t go.

Grant Red Angus. The bloodlines she’d designed so long ago.

Annie faced a dark mask but instead saw the grass-covered hills of her Nebraska home. As always, longing and anger split her in two.

Trying to get something from her father would be like trying to rope the wind. “I gotta hand it to you, the timing is perfect. Dad ought to start calving in about three weeks, just in time for your perfect Red Heifer. But you’ve overlooked one detail, boys. I haven’t spoken to my father in sixteen years.”

The CEO spoke. “For your information, we didn’t plan the timing. Again, it is no coincidence. Further evidence that the Lord is at work in this.”

In her dreams, she always returned to the ranch in victory. But this wouldn’t be that idyllic homecoming. “There’s no way he’d sell me cattle. He doesn’t like me very much. Did you know he’s anti-Semitic? He hates Jews.”

The CEO sighed. “These are really not our concerns.”

Her voice carried a note of desperation even she could detect. “You aren’t listening to me. My father won’t cooperate. We can try other Red Angus breeders. I could contact some in Europe or Australia.”

The CEO sounded worn out. “Please forgive my straightforward manner. We believe the Lord chose you to supply the Red Heifer. Your job has been outlined. You are free to decline our offer.”

The ski mask drew in and out with Annie’s breathing. A trickle of sweat seeped down her temple and stung her eye. A soft whirring noise filled the room along with the creak of wooden chairs and the rustle of clothing from the men at the table. Odor of cigar smoke filtered through the mask. No one spoke.

How far back had the Corporation been pulling strings? Did they have some part in prompting David to hire her? Did they have a mole in PharmCo who’d shifted her application to the top of the pile?

“No, Dr. Grant. It is not a coincidence,” the CEO said. “To have the descendents of Dama ben Natina blessed for all time to be raising the one breed of cattle, with the perfect bloodlines necessary for our return to God, no, this is not a coincidence.”

His words made her feel as if they shoved that knife between her shoulder blades. The CEO didn’t wait for Annie’s reaction. “Dr. Grant, you will acquire the cattle and conclude your research. When that is achieved, you will be free to go.”

“And Hassan?”

“Yes, yes of course,” he said dismissively. “He will be freed, also.”

She didn’t believe him. But as long as Hassan was alive, there might be a chance to escape. She swallowed, trying not to let her knees buckle. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

Voice wavering slightly, as if he was nothing but a tired old man, the CEO said, “If you try to escape or fail in any way, not only will we find you, but those you love will suffer. I promise you that. Death is not the worst that can happen to a person.”

Though spoken lightly, Annie knew these weren’t idle threats. She tossed her head, determined not to break down. “Nice guys. Bet your mothers are real proud.”

The CEO went on. “Your job is simple. You will complete your research for the cure, go to your father’s ranch and vaccinate the cows, bring them back here and deliver the perfect Red Heifer for Israel’s redemption.”

David’s voice reached out to her. “Annie, I’m sorry.”

She felt for his hand. “Sorry for what? For being Jewish?”

Alanberg took hold of her elbow and pulled her to her feet, guiding her toward the door. She jerked her arm from his grasp and held her hands in front of her, taking a few faltering steps before locating the door and then the knob. Black emotions boiled inside her. How was she going to get them out of this? How would she save Hassan?

Annie opened the door and felt her way into the hall. David and Alanberg walked beside her. She slammed the door behind her, surprised at the small flash of pleasure the violent movement provided.

ELEVEN

       It was impossible to tell how long Annie and David rode in the backseat of the car, masks on their heads. Maybe two hours. Long enough for thousands of thoughts, worries, plans, and panic to swirl, crash, and fade, leaving Annie with a stomach so full of acid she thought she might spontaneously combust. Considering her plight, that would be a happy ending.

She sat upright and rigid, feeling as though she hadn’t moved for days. She’d seen the sin of Gomorra in flames and had turned into a pillar of salt. Except the sin wasn’t debauchery but arrogant self-righteousness, and she wasn’t really salt because she still felt pain, the pain of betraying her loyal friend and putting him in terrible danger

David had tried to talk to her several times. He wanted to comfort her, she knew, but she didn’t want the drivers to hear anything they said to each other.

It was deep night by the time the Corporate goons—not officers or board directors but hourly grunts—pulled them from the car, shoved them through a door and left, the tick of a padlock sounding before their footsteps faded.

Annie pulled off her ski mask, brushed her sweaty hair from her face and looked around. They were in some kind of rickety shack with walls of uninsulated weathered board. In the small crevices between the boards, the outside darkness looked dull, punctuated by stars in the night sky. The floor consisted of the same naked boards, dusty and worn. The room, a twelve-foot square, contained two army cots with wool blankets, a rickety wooden table and one plastic lawn chair.

“Charming,” Annie said. “I love what they’ve done with the place.”

David’s short hair stood straight up on his head, moussed with sweat and styled by the mask. “The bellboy has already brought the bags.” He pointed to her duffle and his leather bag tossed into the corner.

Annie stomped across the wood floor, her boots like rifle shots. She unzipped the duffle and rummaged for a sweatshirt. The desert night had turned cold. “Looks like airport security has been checking through my bags again.”

Pulling the sweatshirt over her head she walked to the door and tried the latch. The door gave a little but was padlocked on the outside.

“Did you think it might be open?” David said.

She shrugged. “I hate to overlook the obvious.”

David found a v-neck cotton sweater in his bag and put it on. He stepped close to a crack between boards and peered out. “Good thing the moon is bright or we wouldn’t be able to see anything. Although there is nothing out there.”

Annie paced the small space. “I wonder where our guards went? This shack looks fragile enough we could probably tear it apart with our hands.”

“I wouldn’t doubt your ability,” David said.

The crumbling started deep inside her, like a building imploding. Gentle, timid, loyal Hassan, a bundle of blood and pulp, at the mercy of crazy crusaders. She and David, whisked off to the desert in the middle of the night to use their science to promote some mystical pony show that would only bring destruction to the world.

No way out.

With her face to a corner, Annie wrapped her arms around her shoulders, trying in vain to hold herself together. Her trembling became a violent earthquake. Think. Be strong. What would her father do now? Don’t fall apart.

And then David’s arms came around her. Warm and supporting.

She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him when the volcano erupted inside her. Great sobs ransacked her and her knees buckled.

David held her up, gently rocking. “Shh. It’s going to be all right.”

It wouldn’t be all right, but she let him lie to her as she struggled for control. The outburst only lasted a couple of minutes and she pulled away from David, wiping her eyes. Her voice sounded low and shaky. “That’s productive, huh?”

David took her hand and led her to one of the cots. He sat down with his back to the wall and pulled her gently to him. “You’re scared.”

She rested her head on his chest and felt his heart pumping. “Danged right I’m scared. But crying like a two-year old isn’t going to help.”

His vice was deep and slow. “You are human. People cry.”

She tried to sit up but he held her firm. “I don’t cry. I fix things. I make them work,” she said.

David’s fingers massaged her scalp softly. “Okay. Fix them tomorrow. Right now you’ve got to sleep.”

When was the last time she’d slept? Not the night before Esther’s calf was born. That night she’d stared at the ceiling thinking of David and the vaccine. And after that came the bomb and the bus ride, Hassan in the hospital, the Dome….

Despite herself her muscles started to relax. She jerked awake. “I can’t sleep. I’ve got to figure out how to help Hassan.”

David whispered into her hair. “Shh. I’ll be right here with you. Sleep now.”

His arms felt safe, his heartbeat and breathing alive and warm. This was the only thing that had felt good since…she couldn’t remember.

* * * *

Annie woke with a start, gray light filtering in the cracks in the walls. David’s arms rested heavily around her and her head rose with his deep breathing. She sat up.

He opened his eyes, confusion clearing slowly. “Morning already, huh?”

Her neck and shoulders felt like slabs of cold rubber. And still, they felt better than her head, which pounded with every heartbeat. Her sour stomach hadn’t settled. She ran a hand through her hair, the loose strands feeling stiff with dried sweat.

Annie walked to the door and pounded on it. “Hey! Assholes! Get us out of here. I’ve got work to do.” She put her eye to a slit and tried to see any life outside.

David stood and stretched. “What do you have planned?”

Still with her eye to the door she shrugged. “They want me to make their vaccine so I’ll start there. I’ve got to find Hassan before I can figure out an escape plan.”

Approaching footsteps crunched on the sand before a hand and fatigue-clad arm reach for the lock on the door.

She stepped behind the door to allow it to open. When it did and the guard walked in she shoved against the door with all her strength, knocking the guard backward and making him lose his balance. She dashed out the door. “Come on!”

She sprinted away from the shack, frantically searching for a direction. It didn’t matter. Before she’d taken ten strides a solid force slammed into her and she hit the sand, a heavy body smashed on top of her, knocking the air from her lungs.

The man rolled off her, stood and pulled her arms behind her back, jerking her to her feet. She knew his face. He was the leader from the bus hijacking, the one who took such pleasure in beating Hassan. “That was not a smart move,” he said in heavily accented English.

She leaned over trying to get her breath, her arms still pulled uncomfortably behind her back. “A girl’s got to try.”

This was the first chance she had to look around. They were in a deep canyon that looked like a dry creek bed. Besides the shack where she and David had spent the night the settlement consisted of several olive green army tents, another shack about the same size as theirs and an outhouse.

The guard pulled her upright and shoved her across the sand toward a cliff of solid rock.

As she was about to be marched into a sheer rock cliff the guard stopped short and pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. He flipped a rock on the cliff in front of her that swung open to reveal a door lock. He inserted the key, turned it and pulled on another rock positioned as a handle. A jagged outline of a door camouflaged with rock and dirt opened in front of her.

Without a speaking, her guard pushed her inside. She stumbled into a space of amazing brightness. Overhead lights buzzed, illuminating a surprising sight.

The outside door opened directly into a barn area that contained portable panels set up to make two small pens. One headstall was bolted into the concrete floor. A lab area, situated toward the back, was not much bigger than a galley kitchen in a small apartment. It was lined with counters and contained two office chairs on wheels. The electronic equipment lined a work area separated from the barn by a wall with the top portion glass. It was as well supplied as their lab at Shalom-Hagolan. The whole place looked so much like the previous one she couldn’t help remembering the shattered glass and destruction at the kibbutz.

Although not a large area, it had been hewn from the hill. Drywall was sloppily put up, not for aesthetic affect but to keep dirt from falling into the lab. It was chilly and smelled of damp earth, as one would expect from a cave, even a well lit, clean one. David didn’t speak, simply stood beside her.

She wrenched her arms free from her captor and folded them on her chest, fighting the itch to get back to work. Almost against her will she thought about the protein levels of the vaccine and the optimum stage of gestation to inject the pregnant cows. She felt with some certainty that if injected even a week or less before birth, a previously uninfected cow would gain immunity and pass it on to the calf. Then a booster to the cow would ensure the calf was protected through colostrum. If that worked, they could try taking cows already infected before getting pregnant and figure out the best course to help them produce healthy, viable calves.

Damn. She was doing exactly what The Corporation wanted. How could she work for them? How could she not? She had to do everything she could to help Hassan, although she couldn’t believe that even if she were successful, they’d ever let him go. Her situation was impossible.

The door to the outside opened and clanged shut and she wasn’t surprised to hear the annoying voice of Alanberg. “I trust you’ll find everything you need. If not, please don’t hesitate to ask.”